


and makes me end where I begun

by el_em_en_oh_pee



Series: tumblr "drabbles" [11]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (the game not the fish), Blow Jobs, Castles, Exhibitionism, Felching, M/M, Professional Authors au???????, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Shower Sex, but that's literally not the point at all, lowkey Liam and Niall presence too (they show up and are mentioned but don't have lines whoops), sardines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 03:18:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3234296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/el_em_en_oh_pee/pseuds/el_em_en_oh_pee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis arrives at Zayn’s semi-bi-annual writing retreat almost eight full hours after everyone else does, exhausted and still grimy from the last day or so of traveling the book-signing circuit. Harry proceeds to help him relax from his travels. With his tongue, and also his dick. Mostly his tongue, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and makes me end where I begun

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote half of this as [a tumblr drabble](http://dulosis.tumblr.com/post/71717132430/h-l-first-kiss-or-secret-kinks-i-cant-decide) for molly underwaternow and told myself i'd never put it on ao3, but then this morning i (1) got mad that it was impossible to find on my blog and (2) wrote another 2k words of it instead of doing important work things. so now we're here. all remaining mistakes are mine! 
> 
> (also, the title is from a valediction: forbidding mourning by loml john donne bc i'm a wanker like that :D)

Louis arrives at Zayn’s semi-bi-annual writing retreat almost eight full hours after everyone else does, exhausted and still grimy from the last day or so of traveling the signing circuit. 

Harry hangs back by the ornate door to the huge German rent-a-castle Zayn’s found, watching fondly as the rest of the lads rush out to greet Louis. They’re clearly careful not to topple him over - they’ve noticed how tired he looks, too – but they still greet him with exuberance and giant slappy hugs.

For all his apparent exhaustion, Louis looks just as good as the day Harry first met him, years ago at a children’s lit conference, back when Harry was trying to make the transition to middle-grade novels Louis had been lecturing with Gail Carson Levine on creating believable fantasy worlds. His hair’s a mess from traveling, and his clothes are wrinkled, but that mostly just makes Harry think of sex, so.

Louis extricates himself from the rest of the lads and slouches over to where Harry’s lounging against the wall. “I don’t even get a proper hello?” he demands, once he’s within easy hearing distance, and Harry laughs and pushes himself upright.

“Hey, Lou,” he murmurs, moving forward to meet Louis halfway, and pulls him into a hug. He waits for Louis to drop his rucksack and suitcase handle and then hoists him up into his arms, one hand firmly under Louis’s lovely luscious bum, and snogs him soundly. “Missed you.”

“Thought you were gonna meet me in the Waterstones in Manchester right when I got back from the States,” Louis says, but he and Harry both know that meeting in the middle of a book tour ruins the sanctity of a truly explosive reunion, so he doesn’t sound very reproachful about it.

“Had meetings with my illustrator,” Harry says, and focuses on distracting Louis with little pecking kisses, carrying him back to the castle’s main door. Louis is coiled tight with the tension of being on the road for _ages, and Harry intends to do something about it._

__

+++

For a castle, the showers in the remodeled bedrooms are really, really spacious. The water pressure is for shit, but Harry is more concerned about the heat of it, turning the temperature up until he and Louis are encased in steam and Harry can work the kinks out of Louis’s back. Louis is glistening with sweat and the spray from the shower as Harry crowds him against the wall and digs his thumbs into Louis’s shoulder blades. There are shampoo bubbles in Louis’s hair still, dripping onto his neck and onto Harry’s hands. Louis is so, so gorgeous when he’s naked, and in the yellowy light from the naked bulb above the sink that’s meant to emulate some kind of torch sconce he’s radiant. He got a bit of a tan on the American leg of his signing tour. Harry could make it out when they Skyped and Facetimed, but it’s blatantly obvious now as he lets his head loll to the side as Harry works his hands down Louis’s narrow back, toward the dip at his waist and the swell of his bum.

Louis is clutching the dregs of a mug of tea in his hand, because his personal travel-recuperation methods include tea in the shower, but he sets it down on the little ledge when Harry reaches his hips, kneading into them with sure fingers, and pulls free of Harry’s grasp to turn around and wrap his arms around Harry’s neck. “Missed you,” he says, leaning up for a kiss.

Harry grins and ruffles Louis’s shampoo-y hair as he kisses him back. “Mmm,” he says. “Missed having something besides my plug in me regularly.”

Louis stills for a moment, closing his eyes, and when he opens them again, they’re dark and wide. “Did you miss having something in your mouth, too?”

“I’ve had lots of stuff in my mouth,” Harry says, glibly, as Louis swats at his arm. “Sandwiches. Salads. Ice cream cones. Bananas. Your favourite vibrator.”

“I was _hoping_ I hadn’t left that in some hotel in the middle of America,” Louis says. He reaches down to cup his hand over his crotch, and Harry lets his gaze follow Louis’s movements. Louis is half-hard, pubic hair pulled into wet clumps by the dismally weak spray of the shower. There’s a little soap still in his happy trail. Harry wants to bury his nose in it, so he sinks down onto his knees and kisses, just under Louis’s bellybutton and then down, avoiding the soap, until he can draw Louis’s half-hard cock into his mouth and suck it till it fattens up, hot and throbbing against his tongue.

Even with the unfamiliar soap that came with the rental of the castle and the sluicing water that’s washed a month travel grime off Louis, Louis tastes musky and salty and quintessentially of Louis against Harry’s tongue. Louis has always been wet about his arousal, precome beading at the tip of his cock quickly and in abundance in a way that Harry has never personally experienced, and the taste of it fills Harry’s senses in a way he’s desperately missed. 

Harry knows Louis isn’t going to last long, because Louis never lasts long the first time Harry blows him after one of them go on a tour, so he pulls out all the stops, pressing Louis’s hips against the shower wall with his hands and swallowing down around Louis’s cock, taking him as deep as he can and then deeper still, trying to force his throat back into the practice of taking Louis as deep as possible, distantly registering the way that Louis is gasping out Harry’s name, one syllable at a time. When it’s too much to handle, he draws back, dragging the flat of his tongue hard against the ridge of the vein on the underside of Louis’s cock until the tip of his tongue catches at the ridge of the head of it and he licks up in little bitty swipes until he can press the tip of it against Louis’s slit, catching all of Louis’s musky taste and a few errant drops of shower water.

“Fuck it,” he tells Louis, licking over the head once more, and then clarifying: “My mouth.” He releases his hold on Louis’s hips and wraps his mouth around the tip of his cock and closes his eyes as Louis threads his fingers through Harry’s hair, latching his hands together at the back of Harry’s head before fucking his hips forward in tight, short thrusts. He lets the crown of his cock reach Harry’s throat but doesn’t thrust in too deeply that Harry can’t handle it, groaning out Harry’s name with each thrust one – two – three times until he’s spilling down the back of Harry’s throat and collapsing back against the wall of the shower. 

Harry stands up slowly, wincing as his knees creak from the way he was kneeling on them for so long, pressing the heel of his hand against his cock, which is curved up against his stomach now, and throbbing with arousal. “Welcome home,” he tells Louis, voice hoarse, and Louis laughs, exhaustion tinging the edges of the sound.

“Welcome home indeed,” he says, and draws Harry in to him, kissing the taste of his own spunk out of Harry’s mouth as he wraps a hand loosely around Harry’s cock. The water gets Harry wet enough without lube, and Harry’s close enough that Louis will be able to pull him off without it starting to chafe, even with just the slow, loose twists of his hand that he’s using now. 

Harry would probably be able to get off without Louis even touching him or kissing him if he just said, “I missed you, please come now,” it’s been so long, that he just sags against Louis as Louis sags against the wall. 

When Louis breaks the kiss, Harry buries his forehead in to Louis’s neck where it meets his shoulder, and drags his teeth against the skin there, tasting the clean of Louis’s throat. Louis only has to thumb over the tip of Harry’s cock twice before Harry’s orgasm curls lazily in the pit of his stomach and he’s spilling hot into Louis’s hand.

“Now what?” Louis asks, once he’s rinsed Harry’s come and the last of the soap and shampoo from his body and they’re swaddled in giant fluffy towels.

“Nap,” Harry says, kissing Louis’s neck. “For about half an hour? And then Nialler’s made dinner.” He presses a kiss to Louis’s jawline, and then another, higher up. “And then I think Liam said something about games?”

“Excellent,” Louis says, wickedly, and captures Harry’s mouth in a kiss.

+++

"They could find us any minute," Louis whispers, and Harry shivers, clings tighter to Louis’s arms, tilts his head a little so that Louis can get at his neck, scraping at it with his teeth, biting and worrying at the skin in between swipes of his tongue and quick little presses of his lips.

They’re playing Sardines and Harry is It, which is probably the worst possible time to have sex, but the writer’s retreat _is_ in that huge German rent-a-castle Zayn found, and even though Zayn and Harry have been there since first thing that morning, and Liam and Niall not long after, no one knows where anything is yet. Probably no one will find the hidden twisty staircase behind the really heavy tapestry outside the kitchen. Probably.

Harry kind of hopes they do, though.

"Then we better be quick," he mumbles, as Louis moves his head lower, pulls the neckline of Harry’s t-shirt to the side so he can bite at Harry’s collarbone. His nose presses, cold, against the hollow of Harry’s neck, and Harry feels the rumble of his laugh more than he hears it.

"Yeah, no," Louis says, grinning up at Harry. "We’ll take just as long as I please." His eyes are glinting and his eyebrow is raised and Harry likes him so, so much.

Harry’s stomach swoops at the thought of someone finding them like this. It’s not like what they do is a _secret_ , by any stretch, but still. He had his time with just Louis in the shower, and then again right before dinner. Now that he’s had their alone time, he wants to share how gorgeous Louis is when he’s getting fucked with the entire world. He presses his hand against the front of his jeans, feels the thickness of his own erection straining against the zip. “That’s fair,” he says, “But if I’m not inside you in, like, five minutes I’ll probably die.”

Louis huffs a soft little laugh against Harry’s neck and cranes up for a proper kiss, his thin lips closing around Harry’s lower lip. He tugs it into his mouth, swipes it with his tongue and then bites down, gently worrying at it with his teeth. Harry lets his hands fall to the dip of Louis’s waist, holding him tight and close against his front. Louis’s stomach is pressing hard against his cock, and Harry stoops down a little, pulls Louis tighter against him. Louis is hard in his tracksuit bottoms, too, and Harry rolls his hips forward until Louis gasps into his mouth.

"Gonna fuck you," Harry mumbles, because if they’re doing this, the might as well go all out. He walks Louis backward against the wall, slowly. "Gonna fill you up and eat you out."

“Shit,” Louis breathes, and then he’s shoving his hands between the two of them, scrabbling at Harry’s belt buckle and flies until they’re open enough for Louis to reach in and tug Harry’s dick free. Harry isn’t wearing pants under his jeans - he’d been looking forward to this ever since the shower; as much as they like to pretend that they don’t, they end up fucking during the games portion of the week every time Zayn organises a writing retreat for all of them, and the possibility of getting caught in the middle of Sardines just makes it even more exciting - and his cock bumps against his stomach as soon as Louis pulls it free and releases it to shove his own joggers down. “Do you have -?”

"Of course I do," Harry says, and pulls the packet of lube he slipped into the back pocket of his jeans when they got dressed after their nap earlier. He kicks the jeans off the rest of the way. They tangle around his boots and Louis laughs at him a little, but he leans down to help Harry tug them off.

The stair isn’t well-lit by any stretch of the imagination, but the sun is out, still, and there are windows up high, and they let in light enough that Harry gets a good eyeful of Louis’s arse rounded below him, so he rests his hands on it while Louis helps free him from his boots. He massages the cheeks a little, distracted from making sure they both get undressed by the way they fit into his hands. He drags a thumb roughly down the crack, pressing against Louis’s hole, but not breaching it - not yet.

Louis tenses below him. “Open the lube,” he tells Harry, abandoning their clothes and placing his hands firmly on one of the steps, high enough that he’s bent over at the perfect angle. “Give me your fingers.”

"Right," Harry says, and he kneels on the ground, heedless of the dusty flagstones beneath his knees. He rips open the tab at the top of the packet with his teeth and spits it to the side, squeezing lube out onto his fingers and spreading it around. He presses a kiss to the top of the crack of Louis’s bum and sits back, stroking Louis’s side gently as he presses a finger against Louis’s hole and then works it in, slowly. "If you’re loud," he murmurs, as he works his finger deeper to the sound of Louis’s high-pitched whine, "They’ll find us quicker."

"That’s my line," Louis says, and it’s true, he usually says it right in the middle of them fucking to get Harry to go harder and faster and _louder_. His voice is particularly raspy, and he wiggles his bum a little, working it back onto Harry’s finger, so Harry pumps it in and out briefly before carefully working a second finger in. "Maybe they’ll find us during."

“Fuck,” Harry murmurs, ripping his hand away from Louis’s hip and pressing it against his dick to try and calm it down so that he can at least attempt trying to keep his movements deliberately-paced. 

Maybe he wants someone to find them like this. During last year’s retreat, Niall caught them late one night by a fountain just outside of that year’s castle (Scottish and quite drafty), Louis on his knees with Harry’s cock in his mouth. Harry shot off without warning the moment he caught Niall spotting them, so hard that he was a little worried he was going to pass out. It’s one of the top five hottest moments of his life, and with Louis around, he’s got a _lot_ to choose from.

He works Louis open carefully, because it’s been several weeks since they’ve been together like this - even though they’ve lived together for years now, Louis came straight to the castle from a long signing tour. Sometimes that means Louis has fucked himself on a vibrator every night that he’s away, but sometimes it doesn’t, and in either event, Harry absolutely does not want to rush this.

Sex with Louis is always familiar, though. He knows just how to crook his fingers to make Louis gasp and rock his hips back against Harry’s hand, knows just when to add a third finger, knows just when to kiss the curve of Louis’s bum and pull his hand free and slick up his cock with the last of the packet of lube. 

Still - “Ready, babe?” he murmurs, rising up off his knees and stretching his body along Louis’s back so that he can kiss his delicate shoulder blades just above the dip of his vest top, over and over and over again. He curves a hand around to Louis’s front, tweaks one of his nipples through the fabric. 

"Born ready," Louis says, a little breathlessly, and then: "Wanna ride you."

Shit. “ _Yeah_ ,” Harry breathes, pressing one more kiss, to the curve of Louis’s neck this time and then pulling back sitting down on one of the steps. They’re very wide, these steps, which is convenient. They’re also a little cold on his bum, which is less convenient. But no matter. He pats his lap. “C’mere, babe.”

Louis grins at him and stands up, stretching a little before sitting down decisively on Harry’s lap, his back against Harry’s front. He scoots back, so that Harry’s cock is nestled cozily against the crack of his bum, and rolls his hips a little until Harry has to gasp and reach forward, steady his hands firmly on Louis’s thighs. “Babe,” Harry repeats.

Louis twists around to kiss him, firmly. His lips are cold from panting, open-mouthed, while Harry fingered him, and slick because he can never stop licking them during sex. “Patience, Haz,” he says, loudly and then he rises up a little, steadying himself with a hand on the banister. 

Harry grips his cock in one hand, gives it a quick pump to make sure the rest of the lube is slicked over it. “Okay,” he says, holding it out and steady as Louis starts to lower himself back down, making sure that it’s pressed firmly against Louis’s hole. “Okay.”

He has to bite his lip as Louis sinks down fully onto his cock. He wants to be loud, because he wants everyone to know precisely how much he and Louis are fucking, and he does want to _know_ that everyone is close to catching them in the act, but they’re playing _Sardines_ , and Louis has already informed him that if Liam comes in second place for finding Harry, he will be very cross indeed. They’ve got those competitive streaks, Louis and Liam. 

Granted, maybe Louis will punish Harry if Liam finds them next. That could be well fun. Louis hasn’t spanked Harry in at _least_ two whole months, and Harry kind of wants to do something to deserve a spanking.

When Louis is sitting properly in Harry’s lap, Harry’s whole cock buried deep in him, he gives a little wriggle, so Harry forces himself to sit up a little straighter and puts his hands firmly on Louis’s hips. “You good, Lou?”

"I’m the _best_ ,” Louis says, and he rises up and sinks down again, twisting his hips wickedly as he does so. He makes his voice breathier – Harry knows it’s more to tease him than as a result of riding him, this early on – and says, “Maybe Zayn’ll find us and see just how much I’m the best, yeah?”

 _Fuck_. Harry’s not going to last long at all. He digs his fingers into Louis’s sides, scratches at his fleshy hips a little. Louis loves it when Harry gets a little rough. “I’m not going to last long,” he warns Louis, easing up on his grip as Louis rises up again, so high that he nearly pulls entirely off Harry’s cock. When Louis moves back down, Harry tightens his hands again, pulling Louis closer and deeper, grinding his hips up as much as he can. 

Louis moans, loud for a second before he claps his hand across his mouth. He must bite into the meaty part of the palm of his hand, given the way the noise is muffled, and Harry cants his hips up again, driving even deeper into Louis.

As predicted, he doesn’t last very long. He can feel his balls tightening just a few minutes into it, the thought of someone walking in and the feeling of Louis, tight and wet around his cock, making him even more prone to shooting off quickly. “Sorry,” he gasps, as the tension low in his belly tightens, and then: “Love you,” and then he’s coming in thick, electrifying bursts, his vision whiting out at the edges as he does.

Louis is still hard when Harry falls back into awareness, obviously straining to hold himself still so that he doesn’t move too much around Harry’s oversensitive cock. “I’m going to be dripping with you all night,” he says, delightedly, and when Harry leans up and looks over Louis’s shoulder, Louis has a hand around his own dick and he’s fisting it, slow and deliberate, the reddened head flushing dark and glistening against his pale fingers. 

"No you’re not," Harry growls, and he helps Louis lift off him, carefully. "On your knees, love," he adds, stroking Louis’s side gently and then tugging Louis’s hand away from his cock. He’d prefer Louis to lie flat, but that’s a tall order on dusty stone steps in a dark hidden stairway in a German castle. "I’m going to eat myself out of you, make you come untouched."

"Also a good idea," says Louis. His voice has gone all high and fast, and Harry grins to himself while Louis gets unsteadily up off Harry’s lap and twists around until he’s back firmly on his knees, again steadying himself against a step with carefully-placed hands. 

Harry moves back around behind Louis, kneeling, and then spreads Louis’s cheeks wide with his hands, thumbs stroking in towards Louis’s crack. He wishes the light were better, good enough to see Louis’s hole properly, reddened with the exertion of fucking himself on Harry, hard and fast and good, but imagining it works almost just as well.

He slips one thumb inside to the joint. He can feel his load inside Louis, sticky and wet, and he drags some of it out with the tip of his thumb and leans forward to lick it up. 

Louis swears, quietly, and Harry kisses his hole. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, and licks over it with the flat of his tongue, tasting the remnants of the lube and the little trail of his come and that deep, familiar Louis flavour. “I’ve got you,” he repeats, mumbling it against Louis’s skin, and after one more broad swipe of his tongue, he’s licking into Louis, funnelling his tongue so that he can push it in, deep enough to taste his load.

Louis fucking _whines_ , high-pitched and piercing, and then it abruptly stops. Harry’s not going to look now, not with his tongue so deep in Louis that he can feel the strain, but if he knows his boy, Louis has just twisted his head so that he can bite his upper arm instead of making noise.

Harry wants to tell Louis that he can make noise, as much as he wants - if someone walks in on them _now_ Harry might be able to get hard enough to go again without a proper rest - but he settles for humming, his lips sealed around Louis’s entrance, thrusting his tongue in as deep as it can go.

He rocks back on his hips, pulling himself a little farther away than Louis, but he doesn’t disengage completely. He just licks over Louis’s hole again, little thrusting swipes of his tongue that dip into Louis but don’t go in deep. Louis whines a little at Harry’s retreat, but he just guides Louis’s hips lower with the grip he still has on his bum, angling Louis so that his come will start to leech out of him and onto his tongue more quickly. 

"So hot," he mumbles, pulling back enough that he can press a finger deep into Louis, feel the come that’s too deep for his tongue to reach and start to drag it out again with little tiny strokes downward. When he’s done, he wipes his finger off on his own side and then moves his hands to support Louis’s thighs, which are trembling with exertion, before fitting his mouth back around Louis’s hole and trying to _suck_ his come into his mouth.

It never really works, but the noises Louis makes when he tries to do it are reward enough.

"You close?" Harry asks. His dick is taking interest again, at the thought that someone might’ve heard Louis’s half-muffled shouts and at the sheer experience of tasting himself in Louis. He’s fairly certain he knows the answer, but Louis always likes it when he asks.

"Don’t _stop_ ,” Louis says, and Harry can feel, more than see, Louis shifting around in front of him so that he’s propping himself up with just one hand, the other firmly around his cock. Harry almost scolds him, because he _so_ wanted Louis to come untouched, but he also wants to feel Louis clenching around his tongue when he comes _right now_ , so he lets it go.

"Promise," Harry says, and then he’s funnelling his tongue again so that he can push it back into Louis’s hole.

His come is trickling down a little more, loosened by everything he’s been doing with his fingers and his mouth. So he relaxes his tongue a little, lets it grow fat and wide in Louis so that he can taste all of it, taste all of his load leaking back into his mouth. This is one of his favourite sexiest things he and Louis ever do. Harry loves his mouth on Louis in any way, shape, or form, but he likes it best on Louis’s hole, tongue thrusting deep, tasting his own come. The near-public location is almost just an added bonus. Almost.

"Shit," Louis says, rocking back against Harry’s mouth so hard that Harry’s nose is buried in his crack and all that Harry can taste and smell and see is Louis, Louis, Louis. "Fuck. _Fuck. Harry_.”

Harry just pushes his tongue deeper, straining it as hard as he can, doing his best to curl it against Louis’s prostate - a hit or miss endeavour, usually - until Louis gives one more big shout and spills into his hand, clenching desperately around Harry’s tongue as he does so. 

And then he collapses forward, pulling free of Harry’s tongue in the process.

Harry curls around him as he goes. “You were so good, Lou,” he says, stroking his hip again..

Louis twists around until he’s looking up at Harry and, bringing his hand up to his mouth, licks the pooled come there without looking away from Harry’s eyes, so Harry reaches forward and strokes his sweaty hair back off his face. “Love you,” says Louis, and Harry grins at him and leans in for a kiss.

+++

As it turns out, Zayn is close enough to hear Louis’s final shout. Harry’s back in his jeans, but the flies are undone, and Louis is just pulling up his joggers when they hear Zayn calling from the other side of the tapestry: “Please, are you guys done yet? Can I come hide with you already?”

Harry leans against Louis and laughs and doesn’t stop, not even when Zayn crawls into the stairwell, giving the two of them a disgusted look.

Not even when Louis gives him a sultry look at that, that _promises_ he’s going to bring up the way that Harry’s dick twitched in his jeans against Louis’s side at Zayn’s voice at _least_ the next five times they have sex.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://dulosis.tumblr.com) | [reblog](http://dulosis.tumblr.com/post/109170923851/fic-and-makes-me-end-where-i-begun-1d-h-l)


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